


Keys to De-Stress

by kafrickinboom



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: But we all know they love each other so, Honestly could be read as platonic at this point, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, M/M, POV Alternating, Pre-Relationship, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 11:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9656276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kafrickinboom/pseuds/kafrickinboom
Summary: An AU where everything is the same except Yuuri is also a pianist. A bit of a slice of life the night after Yuuri and Viktor's beach talk.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The version of "History Maker" referenced is [here](http://thirtydayfreetrial.tumblr.com/post/156342368353/hq-wingster-you-know-how-yuuri-has-that-piano).
> 
> I'm not the most confident in my ability to get into Viktor's headspace, but I hope you like it!

When Katsuki Yuuri felt the cloying anxiety creeping up to choke him, he had four options: let the panic consume him (which was really a non option), get away from everyone and mentally beat it into submission, go to the rink after hours so he could skate in order to clear his head, or go to Minako’s ballet studio when no one else was there. Most - even Minako herself - would think he went to the studio to work on his flexibility or his strength training, to work off the excess stress, but that wasn't really something he did to calm himself down. What he really went there for in the middle of the night was to use the studio's baby grand piano.

It sat off in the far corner, usually unused. It was something Minako had received as a congratulatory studio-warming gift from her old ballet instructor, but she had neither the talent to use it, nor the need as she usually stuck with using CDs or her MP3 player. The most she could do was find middle-C, but it wasn't as if she could just get rid of it. That would extremely rude and ungrateful, especially considering was a  _ Steinway. _ No one could deny or return an instrument of that quality, of that  _ price. _

Yuuri very vividly remembered the day he'd walked in only to stop short in the doorway, drooling over an instrument he could have only  _ dreamed _ to own one day. He'd taken lessons since soon after he'd first started walking, following in his father's footsteps.

Katsuki Toshiya was a loving father, but he didn’t actually have much in common with his children. The way he connected most with them was through music. Yuuri remembered sitting with Mari against the wall beside their old, beat up upright piano, listening to their father play. He remembered sitting beside his father on the old, creaky bench, watching fingers fly over the keys long after Mari grew disinterested. He remembered being enraptured by the complexities of each piece and the early desire to be able to make his fingers fly as well. It took absolutely no convincing to have his father teach him. He remembered the bright, beaming smile his father would give him each time he'd nailed a new skill.

Even after he started skating, Yuuri had never lost his love of playing. He'd had to choose bwtween his two loves, and he gave up a lot of time and practice the further he'd improved and moved up in the figure skating world. It was a sacrifice that came at the price disappointing his father. The tight, sad smile he'd received when Yuuri turned down multiple days’ worth of lessons was an image that always squeezed at his heart when he recalled it. He knew his father had always tried to stay positive and excited for him as he progressed. His dad was there for every local competition alongside his mother, and he was one of the loudest people to cheer him on, but Yuuri knew how much it hurt his father that the one thing they really had on common was consistently neglected.

Now, playing the piano was just a comfort. It was the quickest way to get him out of his own head - faster than mentally beating it down, faster than skating it out. Every strike of his fingers on the keys was a chip at the blocks of anxiety that frequently liked to press down on his shoulders, and the relief that came with even the simplest of things like running through scales was borderline euphoric. Arpeggios took him back to the early days of his lessons, before the pressure of the skating competitions allowed for the emergence of his anxiety disorder. Each key change lightened the dark clouds hanging over his head.

He'd come to the studio tonight to shake the anxiety building in him each time Viktor wanted to spend time with him.  _ How could he be interested in someone so incredibly mediocre?  _ Viktor was everything Yuuri looked up to, everything he wanted and wanted to be. Since playing his old free skate music for his mentor and the embarrassment of being vindicated in how bad it was, Yuuri couldn't seem to stop dwelling on it.

What he hadn't told Viktor is that he was the composer of that piece, and he'd worked pretty hard on it. Sure, he wasn't confident in it then and still isn't now, and sure, it really was uninspired and weak, but he still put time and effort into it. He claimed he'd gotten help from a conservatory student at the local college, but he’d only said that so he could shift the blame of his failure to some fictional character so he wouldn't have to admit how awful he felt about being let down.

(He was aware Celestino had never  _ actually _ let him down, but Yuuri could remember the pursed, downward tilted lips and the furrowed brows when his former coach had asked if  _ "this" _ was what he wanted to skate to. Yuuri had backed off immediately, sensing the vague disapproval even if Celestino had never explicitly said he didn't like it.)

Now, he was playing while running through some mental composition ideas in the dimmed light of the ballet studio’s main room, avoiding Viktor lest he find out Yuuri was working on his own free skate piece.

He was absently running through a song he'd recently heard called “History Maker” as his mind wandered through time and key signatures, ritardandos, where and when to crescendo and decrescendo. He was set on making his next composition perfect, but he wasn't willing to put it to the keys until he had a better grasp on what he wanted to evoke.

His best friend and confidant, Phichit, had suggested the song he was currently running through months ago, after losing so badly in last year's Grand Prix Final. It was meant to lift his spirits, but it had honestly grown to mean so much more than just a lighthearted song to Yuuri. It was as if the message behind the whole song was written just for him - maybe not the chorus...he wasn't convinced he was  _ actually _ born to make history, but the verses were perfect for where he was. The music was addictive and it  _ moved _ Yuuri. He'd worked hard on a cover for it, a simplified, deconstructed piano version of the song. Now it was a touchstone song for when he needed to recall that initial feeling of hope and being understood that he'd felt the first time he'd hit play.

He closed his eyes and set his fingers to the keys.

\---

Viktor didn't really know what was going on with Yuuri. He'd tried everything - eating with him, going on runs with him, asking him to soak in the hot spring together, inviting him to sleep with him -  _ everything. _ Still, it seemed that no matter what he tried, there was an ever-present wall between himself and the younger man that he couldn't seem to break through. When he made the decision to drop everything to coach Yuuri, he honestly hadn't thought it would be so difficult to connect with him, especially after how instantly they'd clicked at last year's banquet.

Viktor sighed to himself as he walked in the direction of the ballet studio Minako had previously informed him Yuuri went sometimes. He'd just come from the ice rink, assuming that the Yuuri would be there again as he was nowhere to be found in the Onsen, and was now headed to the last place he could think of to find Yuuri. He wanted to talk to him, to try  _ again _ to convince him to spend the night with him. He wanted to feel close to the other man so badly - to feel that click he'd felt all those months ago.

He hadn’t known Yuuri had anxiety issues when they’d first met. Then again, Yuuri was also drunk off his ass when he'd swaggered his way up to him. Viktor smiled to himself as he remembered the shenanigans of that night. Watching his Yuuri dance so fiercely against Yurio, watching him wantonly pole dance with Chris, dancing with Yuuri himself - feeling those strong hands gripping him, the freedom in their movements, the blinding smiles and beatific laughter, how  _ beautiful _ Yuuri was with a sheen a sweat and nothing but pure affection and excitement in his eyes.  _ God,  _ Viktor would have done anything to stay within that bubble around them for longer than the few hours they'd had.

He now knew Yuuri had some pretty serious anxiety issues. Anyone in a pitch black room would be able to see that a sober Yuuri was an anxious Yuuri. He also knew that said anxiety sometimes prevented Yuuri from reaching out beyond his stubborn bubble of self-imposed isolation. Viktor had thought after winning the Onsen on Ice competition that the younger man would have more confidence in being around him, that maybe with a bit of patience and persistence, he’d come out of his shell a bit, but being avoided like a disease had started to really sting. Even after the heart-to-heart they'd had on the beach earlier wasn't enough to bring him around tonight. He was glad his protégé opened up, but the hesitancy was still prevalent, and he was ready to break through it.

Noting the light emanating from the window, he gave a small sigh of relief, figuring he'd finally found Yuuri. As he entered the studio, he was pulled in the direction of the main room by the sound of a soft, melodic classical arrangement he hadn't heard before. It was a beautiful piece, a lullaby perhaps. He tread lightly as he walked to the doorway leading into the room, intending on observing the way Yuuri's body would move to this kind of music.

What he saw instead stopped him short. He stood stock still, eyes widening in realization that the music was coming from none other than Katsuki Yuuri himself. Viktor felt his jaw drop as he watched his mentee’s fingers veritably fly over the keys, the notes washing like drops of rain on a particularly dry day. Notes rising and falling overlaying a simple melody, a contraction of heavy feeling and light, airy musicality.

He observed the way Yuuri's body fell into the music, swaying with each crescendo, his head bobbing with the beat of the song - contemporary then - curling inward a bit, shoulders falling is if in relief as the music slowed and softened, a sweet decrescendo to the end.

To Viktor, everything Yuuri did was music. From the way he skated, baring his heart to the world, to the way he spoke to the way he moved, whether calm and  _ andante _ or anxious and  _ affrettando, _ to the  _ way _ he played piano. It was as if Yuuri was himself a magnificent arrangement composed by the most skilled of symphonists. Viktor could practically hear the enchanting melody of Yuuri. He just wished the younger man could hear it too.

“Yuuri! That was amazing! I didn't know you could play!” He said as he stepped confidently into the room, throwing on his most radiant smile, applauding.

The full-bodied flinch was completely expected. The quick 180 and the look of horror were also expected. Even the act of curling inward, of hiding himself back behind his walls was kind of expected (if disappointing). What he  _ wasn't _ expecting was for Yuuri to stare off into the middle distance, unable to meet Viktor's eyes. Hadn't they gotten past this point?

“What are you doing here, Viktor?” Yuuri asked, shaking out of his shocked stupor.

“Well, I was looking for you, obviously! You weren't at the onsen or the rink, so this was the last place I could think of to find you.” After a brief pause he added, “I'm so glad I did. You really surprised me here. That was beautiful, Yuuri.”

Looking up from behind his lashes, Yuuri graced him with a tiny, self-conscious smile. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Viktor said with his heart-shaped smile in full effect. “Since you can play so beautifully, have you considered writing your own music?”

“Actually…” Yuuri shifted in embarrassment. “That song I played for you - the one I'd played for Celestino last year - I...I actually wrote that one. And played it.” He scratched the back of his neck with a cringe, unable to meet Viktor's eyes.

The smile on Viktor's face fell to surprise. “Well, last year's isn't really all that good, but perhaps you should try again? I felt a disconnect in the music you played for me earlier. You need to really dig and let what's in your heart show in your music like you do in everything else. You're usually wonderfully expressive. I have no doubt you'll do much better this time. Besides, you wouldn't want to disappoint me, would you?” He said with another bright smile. 

  \---

Yuuri couldn't believe what he was hearing. He knew Viktor was about as gentle as a bat to the face, but still. He felt a maelstrom of emotion from the compliments and criticism in turn, and the desire to prove Viktor right - that he  _ could _ do better. That he  _ wouldn't _ disappoint him. Already he could hear the melody falling in line with his thinking. He'd already decided his theme would be his love. Now it was time to bare himself completely and set to composing it. 

He thinks he'll call it  _ Yūri On Ice. _

**Author's Note:**

> Entirely unbeta-ed. 
> 
> I was requested to write a little fic about someone catching Yuuri playing "History Maker" as a lullaby and figured I'd try my hand out in Viktuuri. （⌒▽⌒）
> 
> Join me on [tumblr](https://kafrickinboom.tumblr.com/) to cry about our favorite boys!


End file.
